


Guns and Bombs

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [11]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Bombs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guns, Missing Scene, Older Woman/Younger Man, Prompt Fic, Roughness, Table Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond and M prepare to meet Silva.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guns and Bombs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the bondkink comm on LJ. The prompt was _Bond gets turned on by watching M put together the home-made explosives, and M can't take her eyes off his sawn-off shotgun._  
>  Spoilers: Skyfall  
> Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine yet...

Bond's fascinated by the sight of M putting together the home-made explosives: her hands are the hands of an old woman, age-worn and wrinkled, but they're still quick and deft in assembling the devices, and he finds himself idly wondering what those hands would be like on his body, stroking and caressing his cock, perhaps pinching his nipples, or slapping him if he misbehaves. He grows hard at the thought, and looks sideways at her from the corners of his eyes, wondering if she can tell what effect she's having on him. He pictures her unzipping his trousers and easing his erection free with those small hands, and he bites back a groan of desire. Forget Silva, forget Kincade wandering around the place, forget everything: all he knows is that he wants her, and he wants her now.

007-007-007

M's fascinated by the sight of Bond carrying the sawn-off shotgun. For some reason it seems more of a phallic symbol than his father's hunting rifle, or maybe it's just the way he holds it in front of himself, where it draws the eye to his crotch, and his obviously aroused state. He's been erect since she made the explosives – she'd noticed him staring at her hands as she made them, and had wondered what was going through his mind, until she spotted the way his trousers were starting to fill out. She isn't going to pretend that she doesn't want him, but she can't really believe that he wants her, not until he finds her upstairs an hour or so later, looking out of the window. He moves in close and presses her up against the wall. 

"M." It's all he says, but it's quite enough to tell her that he really does want her: she can hear it in his voice, and see it in his blue eyes, as well as feel how hard he is as he grinds against her.

"James." She doesn't fumble as she unbuttons and unzips his trousers, and he groans deeply as she eases his cock free. He's very hard and much bigger than she'd expected, but she doesn’t let that put her off.

She begins stroking him as he bends his head to kiss her, all teeth and tongue, and it's her turn to moan when one of his hands slips between her thighs and begins to stroke her.

"Dear boy," she says softly. "You'll have to warm me up first, I'm afraid."

"I can do that," he tells her, moving his mouth to her throat, before kneeling at her feet. He looks up at her and his expression is practically worshipful. She leans back against the wall, stroking her hands through his hair or curling her fingers around his ears as his mouth goes to work on her pussy. He works fast, which she doesn't resent because she knows they don't have a lot of time left, and in a surprisingly short time she's shuddering and moaning softly as she comes. He strokes her through the aftershocks, then stands up again. His cock's leaking pre-come and she reaches for him eagerly, needing him inside her. He grabs her wrists and holds her off. 

"Don't," he says urgently, his voice hoarse. "If you touch me, I'll explode."

"Very well."

He guides himself inside and begins to thrust, and her back bangs against the wall. She winces and bites her lip, sure she'll have a bruise there tomorrow, assuming she's still here tomorrow.

James stops after only a few thrusts. "This isn't working," he says. "You're not tall enough."

"I do apologise," she says dryly. 

He gives her a look, of the sort she normally gives him when he's being obtuse. "Don't be silly, M," he says. Then he picks her up, and carries her across to the table. "You might be more comfortable if you lie back," he says, and she bites back a retort that she's far too old for this sort of nonsense. She is too old for it, but dammit, she's not going to let that stop them. She lies back, and he spreads her legs further apart, then pushes back inside her.

"Christ, James!" 

He grins down at her, eyes dancing with mischief, and leans forward to thrust. She wraps her legs around his waist, hangs onto his arms, and allows herself to get lost in the rhythm. She wonders if he's fantasised about fucking her as many times as she's fantasised about him. Maybe she'll ask him if they survive the impending meeting with Silva, and maybe she'll even tell him about how often she's wanted to have him gagged and bound in her bed so that he can't argue, so that all he can do is lie there while she rides his cock until he's limp and spent.

That thought's enough to send her over the edge again and she tightens her muscles around his prick with a quiet groan, and then he gasps and stills, and she feels his cock pulsing inside her.

He leans down and kisses her tenderly, then withdraws. He helps her down off the table, and they rearrange their clothing in silence, but she doesn’t feel any awkwardness, and she hopes he won't either.

She realises that she feels less afraid of Silva now, and wonders if that's a good or a bad thing. 

She looks up at James, and he smiles gently, then cups her cheek in his hand as his lips find hers again.

"Thank you," he says softly. 

She grasps his wrist, and turns her head to kiss the palm of his hand. "And you."

"Ready?"

She nods. "Ready."


End file.
